


Inward Spiral

by mydeira, Sadbhyl



Series: Responsible Adults (aka, The Menageaverse) [29]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-04
Updated: 2012-06-04
Packaged: 2017-11-06 20:44:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/423004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mydeira/pseuds/mydeira, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sadbhyl/pseuds/Sadbhyl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While the others are on the run, Joyce is sent to Ethan for safety.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Inward Spiral

**Author's Note:**

> Set during the events of the episode Spiral.
> 
> Written by Sadbhyl, beta'd by Mydeira.

The halogen white light of the street lamps and the softer amber yellow of the firelight did little to relieve the gloom.

They sat together in the armchair in front of the fire, Joyce curled up in Ethan’s lap. They had been like that for hours, but Ethan could tell Joyce wasn’t relaxing, could almost see her eyes shining in the dark, even though she never took them off the fire. She’d barely spoken a word since she’d arrived, driven there by her daughter’s command. The rest of them, including Rupert and that cocksure vampire, were now on the run, keeping the Key from being taken now that it had been discovered. But the Slayer had wanted to know that her mother was safe as well, and had sent her to Ethan’s for protection. When he’d opened the door, she’d stood there, hollow eyed and silent. If Rupert hadn’t called and warned him what was afoot, Ethan wouldn’t have known what to make of her state. As it was, he was unsure what to do for her. She had taken equal measures of tea and whiskey at his insistence without resistance or response, drinking both down without flinching. He tried to lure her into conversation, but her monosyllabic responses weren’t encouraging of dialogue. Finally, as the sun began to set, he had lit the fire and pulled her into his lap, simply holding her as she played out the scenarios in her head.

Her sharp gasp of breath jerked him out of his reverie as she sat bolt upright on his knee. “Teach me.”

“I beg your pardon?”

She whirled, her eyes fierce, her face determined. “Teach me magic. Then I can help them.”

“Joyce . . .”

“I have to help them, Ethan! My girls are out there somewhere, and they’re in trouble and I can’t just _sit_ here! I’m supposed to take care of them. I’m their mother. It’s my job to protect them. So teach me. Teach me how to do magic. Teach me how to defend my girls!”

“Joyce, it’s not that simple.” He ran his hands along her rigid arms comfortingly. “I’ve been practicing sorcery for thirty years, and I don’t have the strength to stop Glory. What I could teach you in a few hours or a few days would only give you enough knowledge to get yourself killed.”

“I don’t care! I need to help them! I can’t just sit here, waiting for the phone to ring!”

“Yes, you can. You have to. You are helping them by staying safe. The Slayer has enough people to worry about without adding you to the list. Rupert’s with them. And they’re on the move. They’re as safe as they can be.”

“But . . .”

“No, Joyce. I won’t teach you. And I won’t let you go after them. You’d just be a liability.”

“Fuck you!” she screeched in fury, punching him in the shoulder hard enough to bruise. He winced, but when he didn’t let go of her, she struck him again. “Fuck you, Ethan! God damn you, you selfish, arrogant, self-centered son of a bitch!” Each insult was accented by a blow, driving him back against the backrest of the chair. He simply took it. At least she wasn’t punching his face, although he would have taken it. He’d been beaten on worse by Ripper. It was the least he could do for her.

The rain of blows and curses slowly shifted, the hands pounding on him now clutching at his shirt, her words becoming less coherent as she slowly dissolved into desperate, wracking sobs. He pulled her close, holding her resisting form until finally she collapsed against him, weeping brokenly. He didn’t look at her, simply held her as he stared into the fire, sharing her frustration at feeling ineffectual. There was nothing he could do to ease her pain, despite all the power he commanded.

Slowly her cries lessened, until she lay quiet in his arms yet again, this time limp and wrung out. Her breathing slowed and he thought she was falling asleep.

The phone rang.

Joyce sat up again, staring at the cell phone sitting on the coffee table. “Don’t answer it.”

He reached out one long arm and picked it up.

She caught his wrist. “Don’t. Please.”

“I have to. And you know it.”

She turned her head aside as he flipped the phone open. “Hello.”

It was the vampire. “Watcher’s hurt,” he said tersely. “And Dawn’s been taken.”

“We’ll meet you. Where?”

“Sunnydale Memorial. We’re on our way now.”

“We’ll be there.” He disconnected and closed the phone. Joyce turned to meet his gaze, and he could see the last glimmers of hope fade from her eyes. “Rupert’s been hurt. They’re bringing him into the hospital.”

“And the girls?”

“Glory has her key now.”

“Oh my god!”

“There’s no time for that.” He lifted her off his lap and stood. “We have to get to the hospital.”

It looked as though the battle had returned to Sunnydale.


End file.
